Not a What If? this time; well not really.
I realised last week that we had already lived through 7 months of this year and the time is flying past far too fast. I move very slowly these days so the days appear a little longer 'cos it takes me so long to do things. Nevertheless, 7 months have disappeared as in a flash.
It has long been my desire to live and be a nuisance to people until I am 95. The first part is true but not the second (well not really). That only gives me another 18 years and during that time I will become more decrepit than I am now. I can still do a number of things whilst sitting and a few things while standing as long as I don't stand for too long. Walking for any length of time without my wheeled walker is pretty well out of the question so don't get out and about much but this is not a complaint....just a fact.
My daughter recently looked back over the previous 12 months when she celebrated her birthday in July. I have been trying to look back over the past 77+ years and wonder what, if anything, I achieved during those years. OK I've had 2 marriages (the first not so good, the second extremely good) and 2 children both of whom I love but one of whom I haven't seen for nearly 8 years. I am so fortunate in having a loving daughter but she of course is a working girl and has children and grandchildren who demand quite a lot of her time. She can only spread herself just so thinly and I do cherish the time when I do see her, such as us taking her to lunch on said birthday in July. We at least managed a few hours together, the memory of which I cherish.
I also had 6 grandchildren and I feel we did enhance at least some of their lives (and they certainly enhanced ours) by having them stay with us quite often and also taking them on holidays several times,which I know they enjoyed as much as we did as they still talk about those times.
Financial stress sent me back into the work force for many years untiil a car accident put paid to that so I didn't live the life of an ordinary housewife and certainly enjoyed the positions I held over 20 odd years. I guess my working did mean help to family when needed and also those wonderful holidays spent with the grandies. I really didn't want to work but money was short so no choice. I even managed to wangle a half day off every fortnight to spend with my daughter and first granddaughter when there were problems in their lives. Eventually I was able to job share week on and week off and that was a great experience. I regretted having to leave the wonderful job I had but these things happen so no crying over spilt milk. Why that silly young man had to run his truck into the back of my car I will never know but.....it happened.
We (me and my other half) had two glorious holidays in New Zealand during the early 1980s (oh, to go back to that fantastic country again but we are too old now) but the memory of the times spent there are still very fresh in our memories.
I have lost so many people (family and close friends) over past years that it doesn't bear thinking about but think about I must as I miss them so very much. My dear old Dad died 38 years ago and my darling Mum 24 years ago but they are still very close to me as are so many wonderful people I have known and spent quality time with. One can only wonder at times "Why am I still here and they are gone?" No answer to that one as all happenings in life are pretty well random events and we have little control over most of them. I believe it is called the "Chaos Theory" and that certainly sounds like me....completely chaotic most of the time. You probably can notice that in my ramblings but that is just me....my dear husband says I have a 'butterfly mind' flitting from one subject to another : ) Well, why not!!! There is so much to think about all the time.
I wonder if I will still be able to use a computer when I am 95? Now you could call that a "WHAT IF?"
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
WINTER BLUES VERSUS SUMMER JOY??
I must admit I do love winter although I definitely do not like thunderstorms. Of late I have noticed quite a number of people complaining about grey skies, windy conditions, rain etc. etc. It seems that grey skies can cause depression among certain people and I am sure this has been scientifically proven, however I never feel depressed at this time of year. I do love autumn and spring weather when the temperatures range from 20C to 25C (my perfect type of weather) but I also don't mind when the days are cold. I can rug up to keep warm but can never get cool enough during hot weather which for me is anything about 30C. My ancestors came from northern Scotland and Denmark and I often stop and wonder can our genetics actually have an effect on our preference for even the weather. I was born in Western Australia so should by age 77 be climatised but don't think that will happen at this late stage of my life. I wonder if others out there find constant blue skies and hot, hot days as depressing as others find the grey skies of winter and the rain and wind that comes with that season. An interesting thought.
DIABETES & THE PROBLEMS IT BRINGS WITH IT
I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes in June of 1996....quite a surprise but didn't change my life much at the time apart from following the instructions re exercise and diet I was given. Six months later my other half was also told he had Type 2 diabetes but his was 'worse' than mine with much higher initial readings and he was immediately prescribed tablets to take and of course similar instructions to mine about diet and exercise. He is fortunate in not having arthritic problems and he can exercise quite well and still plays golf although in his 80th year now.
Unfortunately his diabetes began to get worse over time and it was decided recently that he should begin to inject insulin twice a day (before breakfast and before dinner). He had to wait about a month to see a diabetes educator to instruct him on how to inject the insulin plus other important issues. This didn't help as he was apprehensive about whether he would manage OK but eventually he had an appointment and off we went to meet Kylie who was really great and put him at his ease.
All began quite well and surprisingly he has no problem doing the actual injecting but of course now has to test his blood glucose several times a day and that is where the problem arises. He is getting some quite weird readings (some higher than expected and some much lower) at different times of the day and now we (and I say we 'cos my help and support is vital to him) have to try and determine just what he should eat and when and why does his blood glucose go up so quickly and drop so quickly at other times.
It is going to take several weeks to set a pattern for him to get in control and I know this is getting him down as I think he thought once he was on insulin most of his problems would be solved. Life, of course, is never as simple as one thinks it will be but I know we will get him there eventually and we once again will be in control. One must never let an illness take over if it is at all possible to take control of it. This is not always possible with some illneses unfortunately but I do think in this case we will get there and achieve some type of stability once again. Here's hoping so anyway as I love my 'other half' very much and hate to see him down in the dumps. He probably thinks I am being a bit 'bossy' at times but I do have to make him participate in setting himself a routine as I can't do it for him but can only watch and advise and help as much as I can. Just another little ripple in a reasonably tranquil existence.
Unfortunately his diabetes began to get worse over time and it was decided recently that he should begin to inject insulin twice a day (before breakfast and before dinner). He had to wait about a month to see a diabetes educator to instruct him on how to inject the insulin plus other important issues. This didn't help as he was apprehensive about whether he would manage OK but eventually he had an appointment and off we went to meet Kylie who was really great and put him at his ease.
All began quite well and surprisingly he has no problem doing the actual injecting but of course now has to test his blood glucose several times a day and that is where the problem arises. He is getting some quite weird readings (some higher than expected and some much lower) at different times of the day and now we (and I say we 'cos my help and support is vital to him) have to try and determine just what he should eat and when and why does his blood glucose go up so quickly and drop so quickly at other times.
It is going to take several weeks to set a pattern for him to get in control and I know this is getting him down as I think he thought once he was on insulin most of his problems would be solved. Life, of course, is never as simple as one thinks it will be but I know we will get him there eventually and we once again will be in control. One must never let an illness take over if it is at all possible to take control of it. This is not always possible with some illneses unfortunately but I do think in this case we will get there and achieve some type of stability once again. Here's hoping so anyway as I love my 'other half' very much and hate to see him down in the dumps. He probably thinks I am being a bit 'bossy' at times but I do have to make him participate in setting himself a routine as I can't do it for him but can only watch and advise and help as much as I can. Just another little ripple in a reasonably tranquil existence.
WHAT IF? #4
I am not getting back to blogging as often as I intended but here I am again with another What If? and this is one that certainly could have made my life quite different in the long term.
I had attended a catholic school from just before the age of six until I was nearly 12 and I absolutely loved it there. I am not catholic and there were only 2 protestants in my class through the 6 years I attended Victoria Square (now Mercedes) College. I thought the nuns were wonderful teachers and lovely people as well and my one ambition was to go to the "BIG" school once I finished primary school level. I would have gone to the big school the year I was 12. I dreamed of going through to do my Leaving Certificate and perhaps even beyond that to university.
Towards the end of 1943 it was decided that all children (which included protestants of course) who attended the school would have to participate in catechism (religious instruction) classes. My mother was horrified at the thought as she definitely did not want me becoming a Roman Catholic. In her infinite wisdom she removed me from the school I loved and enrolled me at Perth College in Mount Lawley (a school run by the Church of England). It was quite a traumatic happening in my life as I did not enjoy attending the school although I did make 3 friends there with whom I enjoyed some good times during my school days. There was a shortage of teaching staff owing to WW2 and I did find that many of the teacher seemed to pay particular attention to the girls from the "better" families (those with money). My folks were comfortably off and dad was making a good living for us but I have always considered myself a quite ordinary person and hate snobbery of any kind. All this certainly changed my life as I couldn't wait to leave Perth College and made up my mind I would set out to do be an office worker and become a secretary (shorthand typist). Towards the end of my 2nd year at PC I found I would have to attend Perth College for at least another 2 years to achieve this end so pleaded with mum and dad to let me go to a commercial college. My pleading resulted in me in attending City Commercial College for a year when I was 14 where I obtained my Commercial Junior Certificate. I enjoyed it there and was actually offered a job as a junior shorthand teacher but being a rather shy person I didn't fancy having to be in charge of people possibly even older than myself. I found an excellent position in insurance and even spent 6 months working for the Commonwealth Government in Melbourne when I was 18. I have always been glad I learned shorthand and typing.
All the above sounds quite satisfactory but my big WHAT IF? is this: Had my mother not had this fear of me being converted to catholicism I would have spent all my school years at Mercedes and possibly even gone on to university. The strange thing is that through all 6 years at Mercedes my friend Shirley Ponsford (the other protestant student) and I always sat at the back of the classroom during the catechism lessons so surely if I was going to be converted it would have occurred anyway. I couldn't convince my mother of this fact and so my life was changed in quite a significant way. This may not seem a big What If? but it has always been at the back of my mind through the years and remains there still.
I had attended a catholic school from just before the age of six until I was nearly 12 and I absolutely loved it there. I am not catholic and there were only 2 protestants in my class through the 6 years I attended Victoria Square (now Mercedes) College. I thought the nuns were wonderful teachers and lovely people as well and my one ambition was to go to the "BIG" school once I finished primary school level. I would have gone to the big school the year I was 12. I dreamed of going through to do my Leaving Certificate and perhaps even beyond that to university.
Towards the end of 1943 it was decided that all children (which included protestants of course) who attended the school would have to participate in catechism (religious instruction) classes. My mother was horrified at the thought as she definitely did not want me becoming a Roman Catholic. In her infinite wisdom she removed me from the school I loved and enrolled me at Perth College in Mount Lawley (a school run by the Church of England). It was quite a traumatic happening in my life as I did not enjoy attending the school although I did make 3 friends there with whom I enjoyed some good times during my school days. There was a shortage of teaching staff owing to WW2 and I did find that many of the teacher seemed to pay particular attention to the girls from the "better" families (those with money). My folks were comfortably off and dad was making a good living for us but I have always considered myself a quite ordinary person and hate snobbery of any kind. All this certainly changed my life as I couldn't wait to leave Perth College and made up my mind I would set out to do be an office worker and become a secretary (shorthand typist). Towards the end of my 2nd year at PC I found I would have to attend Perth College for at least another 2 years to achieve this end so pleaded with mum and dad to let me go to a commercial college. My pleading resulted in me in attending City Commercial College for a year when I was 14 where I obtained my Commercial Junior Certificate. I enjoyed it there and was actually offered a job as a junior shorthand teacher but being a rather shy person I didn't fancy having to be in charge of people possibly even older than myself. I found an excellent position in insurance and even spent 6 months working for the Commonwealth Government in Melbourne when I was 18. I have always been glad I learned shorthand and typing.
All the above sounds quite satisfactory but my big WHAT IF? is this: Had my mother not had this fear of me being converted to catholicism I would have spent all my school years at Mercedes and possibly even gone on to university. The strange thing is that through all 6 years at Mercedes my friend Shirley Ponsford (the other protestant student) and I always sat at the back of the classroom during the catechism lessons so surely if I was going to be converted it would have occurred anyway. I couldn't convince my mother of this fact and so my life was changed in quite a significant way. This may not seem a big What If? but it has always been at the back of my mind through the years and remains there still.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
WHAT IF? #3
I snuck in the last What If? as it occurred when I was only about 6 years of age and this one is when I was aged 12.
For a number of years I had been "not entirely well" with pains in my side etc., and had even been put on a non-red meat diet for a year or so as it was thought I may be suffering from kidney problems. You must remember this was in the 1940s and the tests available today certainly were not available then.
In January, 1944 I stayed for a week with a friend in Waroona and when I returned home my health really deteriorated quite rapidly. Really chronic stomach pain, temperature, vomiting etc. etc. A very good GP (Dr Guilfoyle) came to see me a few times but couldn't fathom out what was wrong. Finally, in the last week of January the pain stopped but I was obviously extremely ill. The doctor called an ambulance and arranged for a prominent specialist to operate that night. I was taken to St John of God Hospital in Subiaco and incidentally shared the ambulance with a lad from up the road who had rheumatic fever!!! It was war time and there was a shortage of ambulances in those days as there was with so many other things.
Mr Gill, the specialist, told my parents he would operate but did not know what he would find. He stated though that if he didn't operate before midnight then I may not live to see the following day as I was in a rather bad state.
My folks sat for an hour or more waiting and finally Mr Gill came and told them that I had suffered a ruptured appendix which would lead to peretonitis and a lengthy stay in hospital. The reason that no doctor had been able to diagnose appendix problems was because mine was situated up near my right kidney and Mr Gill said had it been much closer it would not have been possible to remove it without damaging the kidney. Mr Gill called in to see me the following morning after which he left on his annual holiday.
I continue to think: What if my GP hadn't been so on the ball. What if Mr Gill had already left on his holidays? What if the appendix had burst while I was still on holiday in Waroona? I spent four weeks in hospital and it wasn't for a week or more that the doctors were able to say I was actually out of the woods. It was not a pleasant experience with quite some pain involved but one thing I will say is that the nuns (all the nursing staff were nuns in those days) were so wonderful.
This is just a further example of What Ifs? in my life that remain with me to this day. Some results, as in this case, turned out to be very positive....others didn't, as you will see in further stories in this series.
I hope you enjoy them but I think it does me good to relive them. Sometimes refreshing memories can be very good for us....sometimes not so good.....but although I try and always live for the future all these experiences are what make us what we are today so why not go back from time to time and relive them?
For a number of years I had been "not entirely well" with pains in my side etc., and had even been put on a non-red meat diet for a year or so as it was thought I may be suffering from kidney problems. You must remember this was in the 1940s and the tests available today certainly were not available then.
In January, 1944 I stayed for a week with a friend in Waroona and when I returned home my health really deteriorated quite rapidly. Really chronic stomach pain, temperature, vomiting etc. etc. A very good GP (Dr Guilfoyle) came to see me a few times but couldn't fathom out what was wrong. Finally, in the last week of January the pain stopped but I was obviously extremely ill. The doctor called an ambulance and arranged for a prominent specialist to operate that night. I was taken to St John of God Hospital in Subiaco and incidentally shared the ambulance with a lad from up the road who had rheumatic fever!!! It was war time and there was a shortage of ambulances in those days as there was with so many other things.
Mr Gill, the specialist, told my parents he would operate but did not know what he would find. He stated though that if he didn't operate before midnight then I may not live to see the following day as I was in a rather bad state.
My folks sat for an hour or more waiting and finally Mr Gill came and told them that I had suffered a ruptured appendix which would lead to peretonitis and a lengthy stay in hospital. The reason that no doctor had been able to diagnose appendix problems was because mine was situated up near my right kidney and Mr Gill said had it been much closer it would not have been possible to remove it without damaging the kidney. Mr Gill called in to see me the following morning after which he left on his annual holiday.
I continue to think: What if my GP hadn't been so on the ball. What if Mr Gill had already left on his holidays? What if the appendix had burst while I was still on holiday in Waroona? I spent four weeks in hospital and it wasn't for a week or more that the doctors were able to say I was actually out of the woods. It was not a pleasant experience with quite some pain involved but one thing I will say is that the nuns (all the nursing staff were nuns in those days) were so wonderful.
This is just a further example of What Ifs? in my life that remain with me to this day. Some results, as in this case, turned out to be very positive....others didn't, as you will see in further stories in this series.
I hope you enjoy them but I think it does me good to relive them. Sometimes refreshing memories can be very good for us....sometimes not so good.....but although I try and always live for the future all these experiences are what make us what we are today so why not go back from time to time and relive them?
MORE WHAT IF'S
To continue with my series of What If's, I think about how my adoptive parents were farmers at Narrikup (near Albany) at the time of my adoption. They were doing reasonably well regardless of the depression etc. When I was 4 years of age my mum had a major operation followed by complications (thrombosis etc) and was extremely ill. The doctor said she should no longer continue to work on the farm as she had previously so mum and dad decided they should head for Perth, walking off the farm with their personal possessions and a few pounds in their pockets.
Eventually dad got a good job with Rawleighs and bad times turned into good but my What If? in this case is this:
What if mum hadn't become ill, the farm had continued to prosper following the depression and we had never moved to Perth when I was nearly 6 years old? I would have gone to the local school and then possibly high school in Albany. I may have married a local farmer and stayed for ever in the Narrikup area.
It is certainly a big WHAT IF? I think I would have loved to remain in the south-west and make my life there but there was no choice so instead I became a city girl and have remained so for over 70 years but I think my heart really still is in the country. I love those big wide open spaces and always will.
Eventually dad got a good job with Rawleighs and bad times turned into good but my What If? in this case is this:
What if mum hadn't become ill, the farm had continued to prosper following the depression and we had never moved to Perth when I was nearly 6 years old? I would have gone to the local school and then possibly high school in Albany. I may have married a local farmer and stayed for ever in the Narrikup area.
It is certainly a big WHAT IF? I think I would have loved to remain in the south-west and make my life there but there was no choice so instead I became a city girl and have remained so for over 70 years but I think my heart really still is in the country. I love those big wide open spaces and always will.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
WHAT IF????
I hadn't realised just how long it had been since my last post. Haven't been in the humour for writing. We both had nasty head colds that lingered longer than we hoped they would and there have been a few medical appointments that take up time (one of the privileges of being old...you to get to go out but mainly appointments with doctors, physios, podiatrists, eye specialists etc. etc.....you name it we do it).
I have lately been thinking a lot about various events in my life and decided to try a series of WHAT IF's???
To begin with WHAT IF my birth mother had been able to keep me even if she didn't marry my father??? He abandoned her (denied I was his...no DNA testing back then unfortunately) and her father told her "to have the baby, forget it had happened, get back home and get on with her life!" Now her father was a detective in the police force and I am sure would have had knowledge of backyard abortionists he could have sent him daughter to visit. I believe he was quite a religious Church of England gentleman so would probably have considered abortion to be a sin but WHAT IF he didn't feel that way? Yours truly would have been no more. I am not religious but must be thankful he was if that perhaps is the reason I am still around.
Again if my mother had kept me with her I would have immediately had 2 aunts and 3 uncles and a set of grandparents....and later there would have been a large number of cousins as well .... quite a large family. My adoptive parents only had one other child (my father was widowed when his son was only 4) and my half-brother was 20 when they adopted me. No other siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins or grandparents in Australia so what you might call a very small family. My half-brother eventually married so I had a sister-in-law and two nieces. I think I would have been quite a different person had I been brought up in a large family but would it have made a huge difference? We are born with a certain type of personality but I do think family, environment etc., do have a big influence on what a person is like as an adult.
Of course my adoptive parents had emigrated to Australia in 1920 but WHAT IF
they had decided to go to Canada or similar instead of coming to W.A? I would have had other parents who may not have been so loving and caring as mine were.
It makes me realise just how fortunate I am. I may not have much in the way of money or worldly goods but I've had so many things go my way in my life that I can only be thankful most of it happened the way it did.
Next time the story of me not being too well at about the age of 12 and WHAT IF?
I have lately been thinking a lot about various events in my life and decided to try a series of WHAT IF's???
To begin with WHAT IF my birth mother had been able to keep me even if she didn't marry my father??? He abandoned her (denied I was his...no DNA testing back then unfortunately) and her father told her "to have the baby, forget it had happened, get back home and get on with her life!" Now her father was a detective in the police force and I am sure would have had knowledge of backyard abortionists he could have sent him daughter to visit. I believe he was quite a religious Church of England gentleman so would probably have considered abortion to be a sin but WHAT IF he didn't feel that way? Yours truly would have been no more. I am not religious but must be thankful he was if that perhaps is the reason I am still around.
Again if my mother had kept me with her I would have immediately had 2 aunts and 3 uncles and a set of grandparents....and later there would have been a large number of cousins as well .... quite a large family. My adoptive parents only had one other child (my father was widowed when his son was only 4) and my half-brother was 20 when they adopted me. No other siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins or grandparents in Australia so what you might call a very small family. My half-brother eventually married so I had a sister-in-law and two nieces. I think I would have been quite a different person had I been brought up in a large family but would it have made a huge difference? We are born with a certain type of personality but I do think family, environment etc., do have a big influence on what a person is like as an adult.
Of course my adoptive parents had emigrated to Australia in 1920 but WHAT IF
they had decided to go to Canada or similar instead of coming to W.A? I would have had other parents who may not have been so loving and caring as mine were.
It makes me realise just how fortunate I am. I may not have much in the way of money or worldly goods but I've had so many things go my way in my life that I can only be thankful most of it happened the way it did.
Next time the story of me not being too well at about the age of 12 and WHAT IF?
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